Grief
by Zehava
Summary: There are times where we withhold our emotions and put them away to deal with the situation at hand, never intending to face them again. Yet strong emotions have a habit of eroding even the strongest walls and breaking free. [HTTYD2 Spoilers within]
1. Grief of a Son

**A/N: **This will be a story divided into three one-shots focusing on three of the characters.

**Warning: **SPOILERS. Watch the movie then read this if you dislike spoilers. Seriously.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own HTTYD2. If I did, it would have probably been three hours long and still not nearly as awesome as their version.

**Grief of a Son**

Hiccup had been busy the last few weeks though busy really wasn't a strong enough word to describe it.

The newly appointed chief had multiple problems and disasters thrown onto his plate as soon as Drago's alpha was defeated. Berk had been nearly decimated with multiple homes either blown completely to bits by ice or affected by it in some way, shape or form. The number of causalities sickened him to the core and almost surpassed the number of men and women lost because of the Red Death. The deaths here were worse though considering many were children and the mourning cries of the families who lost their little ones drowned out even the sound of rebuilding.

The funerals had been swift and many though the feast afterward would have made even the gods in Asgard jealous. While the mood was somber there was still an edge of celebration, of victory in this depressing time. The dragon races had started up again as a way of creating some brightness to the dismal atmosphere and in many ways created that sense of normalcy so desperately needed.

Hiccup had greeted and comforted, spoken with and delegated, given speeches and advice since the battle's end and an end for _him_ didn't seem to be in sight.

Which was good. If he left himself without anything to think about, nothing to put his hands to, he'd have to remember the reason for this new title he wore and he couldn't do that. Not yet.

However after falling asleep while moving wood aboard Toothless and nearly drowning them in the ocean both Astrid and Valka had demanded he go home and get some sleep.

"How are you supposed to take care of your people, Hiccup when you don't take care of yourself?" Astrid had asked him. For that he had no answer and so he forced himself to walk up the hill to the house he and his father once shared. Once…

He had not gone into the house for little more than a few hours of sleep every other day so now being here in the silence with nothing to focus on but the quiet, the young chief felt his emotions spill over the walls he had created for them.

"_A chief puts his people above his own feelings."_

The hearth that housed the fire had gone cold and his father's chopping axe still leaned against the stones. Little things he never noticed were now crystal clear in his vision such as the scorch marks on the walls where his father had attempted to cook breakfast when he was little and nearly burnt the house down. Dirt stains of heavy feet on the floor that had never been cleaned. Hel, the entire house just _smelled _of his father when he didn't even know his father had a scent.

The brunet slowly crossed the floor and noted with a pang that the largest chair at the head of the table would no longer be needed as it obviously wouldn't fit him without dwarfing him like a child again. He slid his fingers across the back of it before pausing in the doorway of his father's bedroom. It really was just an extension of the main room with half a wall blocking it off from the front door's view. The large wooden bed was lined with furs of his father's hunting prizes and his meager possessions were thrown about in a way that looked as if he was just out with the people and would be coming back soon.

But he never would be back would he?

Hiccup choked at the thought and quickly turned away to grab at his face, covering his mouth and nose with trembling fingers. An arm wrapped tight about his torso as a feeling of nausea washed over him.

_The acrid scent of burned flesh bit at his senses and wrung around him like a fur throw on a cold day. Sulfur caused by the smoke of a dragon's blast blended with this and reminded him of raids long forgotten and of strangling fear caused by the dragons that roared with fury just outside his door..._

"Oh gods…" Hiccup murmured and swiftly shook his head to try and rid himself of the memory's smell. Water gathered at the corners of his eyes and the young chief slid to his knees as he leaned against the doorframe for support. His hand had not moved from his face and soon his fingers were wet with tears. "It's all my fault…"

There was nothing to think about now. No people to discuss strategies and defense plans with. No dragons to calm down or train. No homes to build, no ice to clean, nothing but to finally grieve for the father he had lost.

And for the optimistic innocence he had paid with.

* * *

**A/N: **I adored How to Train Your Dragon 2. I've seriously watched it 3 times. But one thing that bothers me is the lack of grief the family had after Stoick's death. I understand the need because of the urgency of the situation but it still seemed so rushed at the end. So I wanted to write about those emotions finally coming to the light after setting them aside for the moment of war. The quote is from the book series though. Not the movie. Though it may not be exact wording as I didn't look it up and recalled from memory.

Until we meet again~

- Zehava


	2. Grief of a Wife

**Warning: **Not sure it's necessary again but, spoilers ahead.

**Grief of a Wife**

Valka wasn't used to so many people.

Berk had been a constant bustle of activity since Drago's attack and after choosing to stay, Valka had sunk all her energies into helping rebuild her old home. Everyone that remembered her—which was quite more than she thought there would be—had asked her what had happened with her disappearance and she hadn't spoken so much in twenty years. Hiccup was a different type of conversation considering both of them often resorted to gestures during their talks. It exhausted her to speak so much and she normally found solace in Gobber's forge.

Dragons still needed their armor removed and for many, the steel had been there so long their scales had grown over the metal and this forced Valka and Gobber to cut it out. There were a number of situations with the new dragons that had come from the sanctuary and villagers that she was often called to put the fires out. Like her son, she had been working around the clock to put the pieces of Berk back together. This usually resulted in her sleeping at the forge with Cloudjumper and some of the other dragons than a bed though she had been used to that for many years.

It was Hiccup who convinced her to finally visit his home after finding her slumped against Cloudjumper in the forge during a storm.

"Like son, like mother." Gobber said with a grin though Hiccup had muttered that it went the other way around yet the blacksmith paid no mind.

So here she was, looking around the home her son and husband had lived in. She had been afraid to go in there for the longest time, afraid of what emotions would overcome her upon seeing the home she had once shared with her family. However, this was not the same home she had lived in. Cloudjumper had torn up the roof and his spewed fire had burned the home she knew. This cottage she was in now was completely different from the one she remembered.

Stoick's room looked just like him though and had caused a tear to fall but she hadn't stayed long enough to be completely overwhelmed by the sadness. Instead, she explored the rest of the house, allowing her hands to move across the worn wood and feel the memories there. The stairs made to look like a dragon's spine brought a smile to her face as she climbed upwards only for it to fade upon reaching the top and realizing who's room it led to.

Hiccup's room was far more cluttered than Stoick's and across from her son's bed was a slab of black rock which she assumed was Toothless's place. A desk was beside his bed and glancing over the numerous sketches piled on it revealed multiple invention ideas and plans as well as drawings of dragons of all types including the new ones who had found a home in Berk. She smiled softly and turned her head up only to see shelves stacked with more papers and crudely bound books. Yet this wasn't what caught her eye.

Valka frowned as she noticed the books were leaning against something unseen and made her way over. The books were being held up by a small, beaten stuffed dragon. The dragon rider gave a small gasp as she carefully pulled it out and gazed at the faded thing. Memories flooded her mind and she found herself stumbling backwards until her legs met the bed and she slid down.

Her son had been terrified of the dragon roars that came on a nearly daily basis and so she had crafted this little toy in the hopes that it would give him comfort. The fact it had lasted this long was incredible in itself considering she was never the best at sewing. Yet knowing he had kept it all these years… not only that but Stoick had allowed him to keep it even though Vikings were meant to be tough, fearless people caused her lip to tremble.

"Oh Stoick… he turned out to be so much like me but it wasn't I who raised him was it…" Her fingers clutched the dragon almost with desperation as the tears gathered. "You were the one who was always there for him and now… Our beautiful baby is all grown up." She narrowed her eyes at the floor as anger swept over her. "He doesn't need me now. He needs you, but he's only got me." The tears fell and she clenched her eyes tight in an effort to stop the flow yet nothing could rebuild the dam now that it had been broken. "_I_ need you… What am I to do? For twenty years I raised dragons, how am I to raise a son that no longer needs raising? What can I do to make up for all those years I wasn't there…?"

Of course she knew there was nothing she could do to repay those years and memories she missed out on. No amount of tears would fix that. Nor would they bring back the husband she had just gotten back.

"_I have no use for rings of gold… I care not for your poetry. I only want your hand to hold…" _She sang softly as she held the dragon close to her chest. "_I only want you near me…" _As she sang Stoick's part her voice broke and her song turned to sobs.

He would never sing their song with her again and the sudden realization was enough to bring all her concealed feelings of twenty years come crashing down around her. Perhaps they were never fated to be together. Maybe their son was always fated to have only one parent and it was she who caused that parent to be her.

* * *

**A/N: **I used the dragon plush from the DreamWorks Dragons series on Cartoon Network as well as the design for Hiccup's room. I feel I may have made Valka a bit OOC but considering everything, I think it fits. I added the fate bit because I know that was a big thing in Viking culture and I wondered if the thought ever crossed her mind that had she not caught Hiccup, Stoick may have lived. Not to say he would have, but after events like this, you think over things like that…

Until we meet again~

- Zehava


	3. Grief of a Dragon

**Warning: **Again, probably unnecessary but spoilers ahead as well as a semi-long Author's Note.

**Grief of a Dragon**

Being an Alpha had never crossed the Night Fury's mind.

He cared little for power like the Queen had though he would say he enjoyed the respect he held by both humans and dragons because of his own talents and renown as a Night Fury. He liked for them to look up to him but he never actively pursued it. All he really cared for was his boy and sharing in the joy of flight. And codfish.

Yet he had taken on the Alpha and challenged him for his position of power to protect his rider with no hesitation and would do it over again a hundred times the same way.

Having won the battle, he was now the Alpha even though he was nowhere near as large as the massive beasts that usually hold those roles. It made things difficult considering he could not feed them like the great Bewilderbeast. He couldn't fly with them without the assistance of a human and many of the dragons were still wary of humans considering the brutality of the traps that had been imprinted on their minds. There was little he could do without his rider on his back and more often than not, his boy was no longer available to go flying on a whim.

His boy had been running to and fro since the Alpha's defeat and Toothless had been doing much of the same. The dragons looked to him for direction and nutrition. He often had to direct them in the ways of fishing for themselves until the feeding stations were fixed and surprisingly, many had forgotten the basics as they were used to having their food sprayed up into the air by their previous Alpha every night. Toothless would then be forced to grab the sunshine female or the boy's dam to ride him as his boy would be too busy. While he did not mind the sunshine mate of his boy or the wild spirit of the boy's dam he missed flying with his rider. With his mate or dam he could not do the stunts he adored so much.

What hurt more than the lack of flying with his original rider though was the distance he could feel between them. His boy stayed by his side and when they were together would offer the dragon smiles and scratches however he seemed… _different_.

The Night Fury could feel the boy's fear when his pupils narrowed during certain situations and that fear directed towards him caused his heart to tighten in his chest every time. His boy had not looked at him with such an emotion since their first meeting when he had freed him.

He could understand the boy's feelings towards him considering the circumstances though it was still rather hazy in his memories. Yet that unshakeable trust they had seemed to have had a weakness after all and the dragon grieved for that loss.

He cursed the first Alpha for losing. He cursed the scarred man's Alpha for winning, for forcing his will onto him until he folded under the pressure. He cursed the scarred man for using all the dragons including himself. Most of all though he cursed himself for being too weak to withstand the Alpha's will the first time.

Some nights he had what his boy called _night terrors_. The dream was always the same blurred image, red smeared across the corners like blood.

He was always thrown back to that moment. This time though, he was aware. He screamed at his body to stop, pulled at his legs, tried to lash his head away from the terrified face of his rider yet his body was no longer under his control and he would continue to stalk towards the human. He could hear his boy as he yelled, see him slowly back away and he willed for the boy to run, to do _something_ rather than back himself into a corner. He could feel the gas begin to accumulate in the back of his throat and hear the cry of the boy's sire. He would try to stop himself but as always, the plasma blast shot forward and a cloud of ice and sulfur would cover them.

And when it cleared, it was not the body of his boy's sire crumpled under the ice but his own rider. Smoke rose from the charred remains of his leather armor and mingled with the smell of burned flesh. His rider was as still as the ice that covered him and he would screech his despair until his lungs withered away.

Usually, he would be awakened from these night terrors by his boy and when his eyes snapped open he never missed the boy's flinch at the sight of his narrowed pupils. And that feeling of losing his boy in the dream would only intensify. He hadn't lost his boy physically, but sometimes he feared he lost his boy in another sense.

However, his rider wouldn't leave his side and would murmur soothing words as he scratched the dragon's scales in a slow, careful way that rather than soothe would make the dragon feel like Red-Hot Itchyworms were crawling under his scales.

As if he would torch the boy were he to rub him wrong.

Some nights though, the positions would be flipped and the dragon would awake to the distressed cries of his rider. He would bound off his rock bed and often the blue aura he had acquired during his challenge with the Alpha would alight and coat the room in cyan hues. When he determined there were no enemies he would go to his rider's bedside as the blue subsided and carefully nudge him into awareness. The boy would usually awake with shuddering breaths and trembling shoulders. After a moment's hesitation, he would turn over in his bed, wrap his arms tightly around the dragon's neck, and bury his face against his shoulder.

That hesitation sent prickles of sorrow across the dragon's heart. The boy had never hesitated when it came to holding the dragon, something the Night Fury had grown fond of during his years of friendship with the boy.

That grief for the loss of their relationship would only grow. But Night Furies were nothing if determined, stubborn beasts. Toothless was not a dragon that would wallow in self-pity. He would get that relationship back one way or another.

So, despite the protests of his rider, the dragon would carefully climb onto the wooden bed of his boy and encircle him protectively. He would wrap his tail around him and use his wing to finish up the cocoon. The boy would sometimes squirm a bit and mutter something about _overprotective reptiles_ but would eventually settle against the dragon's side. Toothless would wait until his breaths deepened before giving the boy's head a gentle nuzzle, desperate to make it the way it was before.

He regretted killing the boy's sire greatly as he had grown to like the red-faced man yet if faced with the choice of who the blast incinerated he wouldn't change the events that had occurred. So while he would grieve for the change in the bond they shared, he could not grieve for the man who had taken the blast for his rider.

Because he would rather have this strained relationship with his boy than no rider at all.

* * *

**A/N: **Toothless was a bit harder to do, why it took me a while. He calls Valka 'dam' and Stoick 'sire' as those are the animalistic versions of most parents. The scarred man is Drago and the sunshine female is Astrid. I don't think he'd use names. I believe that Toothless would feel bad about killing Stoick because he probably did grow to like him and knows it hurt Hiccup badly but I feel he would grieve more for the change in Hiccup.

I added that because my belief is that it wouldn't be all sunshine and roses between him and Hiccup. He may have not meant to do it, but Toothless is still the cause of his father's death and I feel like it would take him awhile to get over that fear of seeing Toothless in that feral way. That strong trust between them would be weakened then by that and Toothless would be able to sense it. That hesitation and fear Hiccup has to overcome.

Red-Hot Itchyworms are dragons in the books that are like fire ants but about five times worse.

That's the end of my three-shot story. Thank you all for your reviews/faves/follows. They make me uber happy~ If you have any more people you'd like to see, drop me a review/PM and I might try to write them in, if I can think of their grief angle. It might help me get over my feels for this movie… Thank you again my chickadees!

Until we meet again~

- Zehava


End file.
